I have been back to the States for 25 days. 25 loooong days. Whereas 2 months flew by at lightning speed in India and felt far too short, every day back in America has felt like a week, and I knew that this was exactly how it would feel as I recalled how every return back from India before this one has felt. Accordingly, although I was so thrilled to be reunited with my beloved dad at the airport, I cried for a good chunk of the ride back home looking out and seeing a completely pristine and unicolor landscape (gray concrete buildings everywhere) that felt murderous to my soul. Dramatic, I know, but I don’t know how else to describe it as I tried stifling my tears as I basically choked on them hoping not to cause my dad any distress. Naturally, the tears and my perception of time both say a lot about how India feels to me and how I, most importantly, feel in India.
In addition to my last post in which I talked about the possibilities (relationship and professional) that I explored in my second month and am still exploring remotely, I have been in continued reflection and introspection about my Motherland feels, and I have landed on the following…
I love the chaos… Everywhere that my hyper-privileged self has ever lived or visited in America feels far too orderly, logical, and perfect, and one would think that these would be good and much-desired things (especially considering that it is this exact life that my parents sought over 40 years when they left India forever seeking a “better life” in America), but, for me personally, they have always made me uneasy and felt stifling. I do not know if it is the expectation that I am supposed to want to be a part of and, accordingly, fit into/live up to this perfection – which I do not aspire towards – that has tormented me or that, in this perceived perfection (fully knowing many lives of quiet suffering lie beneath outward “perfect” appearances), I have always felt like an outsider and that who I really am is dulled and diminished in comparison to how I feel when I am in India. Which is as if I belong. Everyone and everything is “mine/my own.” Joyful and at peace.
What is so interesting about this recent trip is that friends who have known me in person/virtually (many of whom are no less “real friends” to me in every way) observed this marked difference. Through what I shared via photos, posts, and stories, they said things like: “We’ve never seen you happier” or “more vibrant” and “alive” as well as “we’ve seen you happy at home with your family, but this is different.” It is absolutely different and always has been; every trip to India since I was little has felt like “this is home” and being born and raised in America has always felt like a “mis-janam” (mis-birth).
This most recent trip reminded me of all of this in very powerful and profound ways, and I fully internalized that – other than my attachment to my family (totally unhealthy when it comes to my parents in that I feel selfish for when considering moving and they have often tried to emotionally manipulate me to stay close to them and make me feel guilty for wanting to leave even though they know that I despise the DC area) – there is no reason I should not go and see what is possible in India. Whether it is living there for 6 months and being back in the States for 6, continuing to be open to relationship prospects (interestingly, after 2 years of not being open to dating before India, I resumed my “not interested” status now that I’m back), and/or exploring various pursuits (professional, business, & making an impact), I am down for any and all of it.
& yes, sure, I feel so guilty, awful, and selfish considering leaving my parents and family in general (as they are all in this area), but my bigger fear is – as I already have considering that I (as someone who loves people & is social by nature) do absolutely nothing here – making them my whole life and then, one day, when one parent passes, never leaving home and making the other parent my entire life, and, ultimately, having no life of my own once that second parent passes. That being said, my parents did the same 40+ years ago… they left their families and everything they knew in pursuit of what felt better for them, so I’m embarking on a similar journey. Just in reverse.
Oh, and one last thing… Because I know these people are out there, yes, I absolutely know that I have only really “done India” as a guest, which is a very different experience and largely contributes to how I feel there, but I feel that I owe it to myself to explore it nonetheless.
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